Maximiliano
by Gilboobs
Summary: A Claude and Alois one-shot. The story is related to "He Is Only Seventeen" and "A Little Miracle". Warnings: mpreg.


**Author Commentary: My Claude and Alois story. This story is related to **_**A Little Miracle **_**and **_**He Is Only Seventeen**_**. This chapter takes place the same day as Chapter Two of **_**A Little Miracle **_**and Chapter Thirteen of **_**He Is Seventeen**_** (which, at the time of publishing this story, were not up).**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Mpreg, yaoi/shonen-ai**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Black Butler**_**/**_**Kuroshitsuji**_**.**

Alois laid on the bed he shared with Claude, screaming loudly with every contraction.

Claude felt a tight, nervous sensation building inside himself. It seemed as if the pressure began in his stomach and moved up under his heart, trying to force his heart from his chest.

"Cl-Claude," Alois panted. "I can't do this no more!"

Claude sighed and took Alois's hand. "Just hold on a little longer. It will all be over soon."

Alois moaned and squeezed Claude's hand tightly. "This hurts!"

"I understand." Claude's voice was blank, emotionless. He clearly did _not _understand nor did he want to.

"Claude, do something, please," Alois begged.

Claude sighed and dropped Alois's hand. Before Claude could move to the end of the bed, the worst contraction yet racked Alois's weak body. Alois raked Claude's arm with his fingernails.

"No." Claude removed Alois's fingernails from his arm and continued to the end of the bed.

The demon positioned himself in between Alois's trembling legs.

"Alois, do as I say," Claude demanded. Alois nodded weakly as a response.

Not much longer later, Claude instructed for Alois to push. The absolutely terrified and exhausted boy tried the best he could to bear down. It was a rather feeble attempt.

It took four hours for Alois to make any progress.

"Claude, I can't bloody do this no more!" Alois screeched, trying desperately to not begin sobbing.

The demon butler sighed heavily. "Do hold on a little longer, Alois. Only a few more pushes, all right?"

Alois cringed at the thought. "Only a few more pushes" is something Claude had said two hours before then.

The young man was becoming incredibly delirious. He could hardly remember his own name, where he was, and things of the such.

The next time Claude instructed the teen to push, something awful then came to light - the child was breech.

Alois noticed the horrified look on Claude's face. "Cl-Claude, what's wrong?"

"The baby's breech, Alois."

Alois burst into tears.

"Just hurry up and push." Claude then mumbled, "We need to get this little bastard out of you."

Alois pushed as hard as he possibly could, screaming loudly. The teen collapsed onto his bed, gasping for air. The infant's waist and everything below was "out."

"Two more pushes, Alois."

"Pr-promise?" Alois wheezed.

Claude nodded. "I promise."

Alois was close to sighing with relief, but did not have the time.

"Push again."

Alois did as told, remembering that the ordeal was close to being over. After the push, all that need to pass through were the shoulders and everything above.

Claude grinned slightly. "One more push, Alois. One more."

Following the next push, Alois felt the child slide out.

Claude, with child in front of him, began pressing on the infant's chest. "Come on… breathe, please."

Alois began panicking. "Claude! Is the baby alive? Claude, answer me!"

"Please, breathe." Claude continued pressing on the child's chest. "Please."

"It's dead, isn't it!" Alois cried.

Suddenly, a sharp wail pierced the air. Claude laughed nervously and wrapped the little infant in a blanket.

"Can I see my baby, Claude?" Alois's voice was breathless, exhausted, and, at the same time, incredibly excited.

Claude plopped the little thing into Alois's arms.

Alois looked over the infant. "Claude, is it a boy or a girl?"

"A little boy, Alois."

"He is so bloody adorable." In reality, the child was. The little boy had blond hair, semi-yellow eyes (similar to Claude's), and snow-white skin.

"What do you want to name him?" Claude asked, smiling.

"Maximiliano."

Outside of the bedroom door Canterbury, Thompson, and Timber stood, talking unusually quietly (well… it was quiet talking for _them)._

"Timber!" Canterbury exclaimed. "Thompson and I have been talking lately!"

Timber moved his head to the side slightly, much like an ever-so curious puppy hearing a strange noise. "What have you been talking about?"

Thompson grabbed Timber's hands and pulled them up, as if Timber was his lover. "We think you should have our babies."

Timber's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "Why _me_?"

"Because," Thompson and Canterbury began in unison. "You're the cutest."

Timber gulped down his fear. "Oh my God…"

"So, Tim," Canterbury began.

Thompson finished with, "Get on your hands and knees. You're totally getting it doggy-style."

_**A/N: **_**I'm not sure what do with the ending. Should I get Timber knocked up? And if you answer yes, which brother (Canterbury or Thompson) should be the father? To answer, either PM me or put it in your review.**


End file.
